Last Man Standing (Book 1): Zombie Armageddon

by Max Lockwood

  Matthew didn’t even realize his change in character until he was standing with his nose pressed against the glass. In ordinary circumstances, he would stare straight at the ground and walk at least ten feet away, just in case the glass fell through. His wife often teased him about his fear, though she was quick to proclaim his heroism when he squashed spiders for her.

  Now, he had no qualms about approaching the glass and staring down to the street. The familiar quiver in the pit of his stomach wasn’t there. His hands were steady and he didn’t break a sweat. His mind felt calm and clear. He just wasn’t afraid.

  What would have seemed like a triumph for overcoming fears only confirmed the worst—he was so numbed by the horrors of the world that mortality didn’t faze him. That, and his subconscious must have picked up on the fact that there were other, more horrifying things to be afraid of. A fall from a high-rise would be nothing compared to being chased and eaten by zombies. The two didn’t even compare. At least if he fell, he could experience the sensation of flying. It would end so sudden and painlessly, too.

  Matthew’s mind went to places it had never come close to going. He started imagining himself falling to the ground, ending his life with no pain, no ceremony. The other two might not ever find him. Not like it would make much of a difference to them, though. They would just have to assume that something bad had happened to him and leave it as a mystery. He liked the girls, but he didn’t really owe them anything. They were practically strangers.

  It seemed like a better alternative than returning to the ground floor where he would have to face his responsibility to protect two other survivors. It was just more work than he felt capable of doing at that moment in time.

  There hadn’t been a single good moment since the night at the restaurant. Everything since had been nothing but sheer torture. Matthew was forced to endure the pain of losing his wife, the only person he was close to. The only friends he had were either still deployed or Rebecca’s friends who had accepted him. Unfortunately, because they had to travel for work, it was hard to keep friends. Whoever he knew was almost certainly dead. There was no one left to care about him. His existence meant very little to the world.

  It made Matthew wonder if carrying on was even worth it. In the end, the chances of surviving the epidemic were slim to none. Even if he managed to ride it out, what would be left of the world? After his wife died, there was no reason for him to live, besides the fact that it was just what one did. Biology dictated that living beings wanted to survive. While giving up would be the easiest option, for some reason, it was natural to carry on, not matter how painful it was.

  Facing his mortality, Matthew wondered for the first time in his life whether he would even care if the glass disappeared while he was pressed up against it. In fact, he wondered if he would even welcome it.

  The tremors returned to his hands. His breath was stuck in his throat, choking him. He sank to the floor and pressed his palms into his face, focusing on taking deep breaths.

  What was he thinking? It was not in his nature to give up so easily. Sure, he had suffered, but there had to be something to live for, even if he couldn’t begin to figure out what that was.

  Closing his eyes, Matthew saw the image of his wife in his head. He felt as if her spirit was with him. At the very least, he could conjure up a memory of her that was so strong that he could imagine exactly what she would say.

  He knew that she would be concerned and likely disappointed in the way he was behaving. She had been extremely patient with him when he’d had breakdowns and had assured him that he would be just fine, even when he didn’t feel like it. She was always right, though. She was right about everything.

  “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Matthew whispered.

  Yes, you can, the memory of his wife said. There are two women who depend on you to help them. There are still people out there who could use someone like you. I want you to survive this. You can still do a lot of good.

  Matthew scoffed. Rebecca was dead. He had no way of knowing exactly what she would say. Besides, she’d left the Earth before everything went to crap.

  Matthew’s eyes welled up with tears. He was so desperate to talk with someone who understood him. Ellie was nice enough, but they didn’t have a personal connection. She wasn’t the type to talk about personal stuff. Genevieve was sweet, but the language barrier was too large to properly describe his issue. Plus, he didn’t want to disclose his urge to leave them when they depended on him.

  He closed his eyes and prayed. He didn’t know exactly what he was praying for, but he begged God to help him. Whether that meant he would live or die, he prayed that things would get better. He felt so lost and alone and needed someone to talk to. Even though he didn’t hear a response, it was somewhat comforting just to get his feelings out into the universe. Whether the prayers would be answered was unknown, but it felt good to imagine some higher being taking the burden off his shoulders. Matthew wasn’t particularly pious, but it certainly didn’t help to ask.

  He wondered out loud, to his god, if he had done something in his life to deserve his fate. Matthew attended church services on most Sundays. He gave money to charity when he had it and he volunteered when he had extra time. While he’d never claimed to be a saint, he didn’t think he was a bad person. But his opinion wasn’t the one that mattered when it came to divine intervention.

  At Rebecca’s funeral, the pastor spoke about living a life of purpose. While Matthew was hardly paying attention, he picked up on the gist of it. It seemed a little far-fetched to think his life was so important that God would choose him, of all people, to carry on through the zombie apocalypse. No, he had a little more humility than to think that he was the chosen one.

  With that, Matthew decided to wrap things up with a few requests. First, he asked that if he must die, that it not be drawn-out and painful. He wanted it to end was quickly as possible. Even in a job where death was a real possibility, he had witnessed how frightened even the toughest soldiers were when faced with their own deaths.

  Then, he asked that Genevieve and Ellie would survive so they could create a cure for whatever was turning people into zombies. He didn’t know if that was in their expertise, but they seemed to be pretty important scientists. Maybe God could help them create a cure, even if by accident. If they could put a stop to the madness, they would be heroes.

  Finally, he threw out one last prayer for the other survivors in the world. There had to be more people out there, just like him, who felt the weight of the world on their shoulders. He prayed for their safety and protection in such a horrifying time. Maybe one day, they would find one another.

  “Amen,” Matthew said, letting his voice echo down the empty halls. He got to his feet and meandered into the offices to carry out the plan he’d initially told Genevieve he was leaving to do. He was feeling a little tired, but he didn’t want to have to answer any questions about his whereabouts if he were to come back empty-handed. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his faith, but it was something so personal that he didn’t want to share it with others. It was akin to sharing one’s wish after blowing out birthday candles—if he told them, it would ruin the magic and give way to his innermost thoughts.

  But his plea for help seemed to calm him down, if nothing else. Perhaps that was the whole point of prayer—to calm one’s mind so the rational answers could come flowing in. He no longer desired to break through the glass, nor did he want to abandon the other two whom he had formed a connection with. Matthew still wasn’t feeling optimistic about his situation, but at least he wasn’t downright suicidal. That had to count for something.

  9

  “So, I’ve been thinking . . .” Matthew said hesitantly as he sat up from the couch. Though he had slept for the past few hours, he’d used the last twenty minutes of his allotted time to think of the right way to present an argument. As he thought about the plan, he knew it wouldn’t go over well with the women.

  “Uh-oh,�
�� Ellie said before pursing her lips. “You do a lot of that. I have a feeling the next thing you’re going to say is something we don’t want to hear.”

  Matthew couldn’t help but snicker at the women’s concern. If Ellie acted like a mother or grandmother, then Genevieve was a protective older sister. While she lacked the ability to physically guard his back, she always seemed concerned when Matthew talked through strategies with them.

  “Ellie, you saw how bleak this place is. Some of these floors are completely empty. I wonder if the people who worked here had a little notice that the disease was spreading this way. It wasn’t as if they ran from the building without taking some of their personal belongings. We can’t survive on candy dishes and half-empty water coolers forever. At some point, we’re going to have to go outside for supplies.”

  “Now?” Genevieve asked apprehensively.

  “Matthew, I don’t know about this,” Ellie said. “There’s enough here for us to survive on for quite some time.”

  “A week, maybe two,” he said. “I have a feeling we’ll stay for longer. Besides, this place doesn’t have everything we need. We went through so much trouble to secure the building. I don’t want to pack up and move right away.”

  “Neither do we,” Ellie replied, “but it’s extremely risky. We just saw what the streets around here look like. We know that there are zombies milling about. Genevieve can’t run and you know that I’m only going to slow us down.”

  Matthew stood up and placed his hands on his hips. “Well, I never said that the two of you were going to go with me.”

  Ellie’s mouth gaped open. “No. You’re not going out there alone. That’s suicide.”

  Matthew’s stomach clenched at the expression. He thought for a moment, trying to make sure that there wasn’t a little part of his own brain that wanted him dead. After praying, he thought he had shaken those thoughts from his mind.

  “I wouldn’t risk it if it weren’t important. There are needs that can’t be met with the stuff in this building.”

  “Like what?” Ellie asked.

  “Genevieve needs things for her injured leg. You can’t tell me that you think it’s good for her to suffer in silence.”

  They looked to Genevieve, who immediately looked at the floor. Matthew could tell that she didn’t like the attention. Ever since Matthew ran out of pain pills to give her, she hadn’t been able to sleep. She grimaced every time she moved and looked especially pale. Not only was she in agony, but her leg would never heal without the proper supplies.

  “You’re right,” Ellie sighed. “I just don’t like it.”

  “I don’t either,” he said, “but it has to be done.”

  Genevieve shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said tersely.

  “You’re not,” Matthew said softly. “None of us will be fine if I don’t get the stuff we need. I’ll be quick. I looked out the window and there’s a drug store right across the street that has just about everything we need. Ellie, I’ll need you to stand guard and help me get in and out of the building. The second I leave, you’ll have to secure the building again.”

  “I’m scared,” she said. “I’ve made kills, but there’s always been someone else right beside me if things go wrong. I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

  “You can,” Matthew replied. “You’re more than capable. Who knows? You may not have to fight at all.”

  “I want to help,” Genevieve interjected. “I sit and do nothing all day. I want to help you.”

  Matthew bit his lip. He was wary about having Genevieve help with their missions. If she hurt herself worse, he would feel terrible. She just wasn’t strong enough yet.

  “You can guard this room,” Matthew suggested.

  “I always guard this room,” she protested.

  “You can be Ellie’s backup. If she calls you for help, you’ll be next in line. How is that?”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Okay.”

  “Good. So, everyone knows the plan? I’d like to get this done before sunset. I don’t want to get caught out in the dark.”

  Ellie slipped on her shoes and followed Matthew out the door. She looked incredibly unhappy, but she didn’t voice her opinion. They were all the way into the atrium when she finally spoke.

  “I don’t know why, but I have this weird feeling that something is going to happen while you’re out there. I don’t know what it is, but I just get this tingly sensation in my bones.”

  Matthew placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know. I get that feeling from time to time too. It’s going to be fine.”

  “But if it’s not?” she said, her voice quavering.

  Matthew nodded. Ellie wasn’t stupid. She could understand that leaving the building to scavenge while zombies roamed the streets was downright stupid. While she may have been concerned for Matthew’s wellbeing, she was also concerned about her own.

  “You’re capable. Your supplies will go further without me around. If it’s possible, I’d try to get a gun. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  He felt incredibly guilty handing her halfhearted survival advice. After all, he didn’t think they stood a chance without him. If he died, Matthew was ninety percent sure they would die too.

  She blinked rapidly. “Which door are you going out of?” she asked, sounding a little irritated.

  “The exit on the side. I’m not going to touch the revolving door. After I leave, shut it behind me and make sure the lock latches.”

  “How long do you want me to wait for you to return?”

  Matthew frowned. “Without any obstacles, I’d give it thirty minutes. But I expect it to be difficult. I’m going to guess I’ll be back within an hour or two. If I’m not back before dark, go ahead and assume the worst.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” she said, folding her hands across her chest.

  Matthew opened the emergency exit, the natural light much brighter than he remembered. He squinted as he scanned his surroundings. There were zombies up ahead but none directly in front of the door. That was a relief.

  Without saying another word to Ellie, he crept forward, listening for the click of the lock behind him. When he could confirm that the women were secure, he jogged forward, keeping his head on a swivel.

  Under any other circumstances, Matthew thought that the three were in prime real estate. The grandiose office building was in walking distance to some really great restaurants. Matthew looked longingly at the abandoned storefronts that once housed the best food in the country. His mouth watered as he thought about eating Korean barbeque with all the sides he could ever want.

  He tried to imagine life as someone who worked in that office building before the zombie crisis. He could easily pop out for a long lunch or run by any of the convenience stores in the area for an energy drink and a bag of M&Ms. Matthew imagined that many of the employees lived in the area in equally tall buildings where they probably picked up dinner on the way home to watch television in their tiny apartments. Still, the city would bustle around them. There was no shortage of things to do in the area.

  As Matthew crept around the corner of the building and prepared to cross the street, he saw a zombie with its back turned to him. He didn’t want to cause a scene by engaging in a fight, but he worried that he would be chased if he didn’t put a stop to the creature first. Clenching his knife in his fist, he quickly assaulted the zombie, stabbing it squarely in the base of the head, right where the cranium met the spine. After effectively severing the spinal cord in one clean strike, he took a step back as the body crumpled to the ground.

  Worried that the noise would attract others, Matthew picked up an empty soup can near the curb. He hurled the rubbish with all of his might, sending it sailing to the end of the block. It crashed to the concrete with a clamor, rousing the zombies. They swarmed toward the noise, allowing Matthew to sprint toward the drugstore without being seen.

  Luckily, his plan worked. Seconds after he slipped through the front door, the
zombies realized that the sound they heard was a false alarm. They scattered, aimlessly wandering around the neighborhood.

  Once inside the store, Matthew took a deep breath. Now, he just needed to collect the things the group needed and run back to the building. The first part of the mission had gone well enough, much better than he figured it would go.

  Something must have gone down in the drugstore before the city was deserted. Pill bottles littered the floor and whole shelves of lotions and soaps had been knocked to the ground. Matthew had to step over bottles of water and nearly tripped over a wheelchair.

  Matthew picked up a backpack and walked through the aisles, trying to decide what the most important items were. He only had so much room in his bag and so many things that would be useful to the group.

  First, he grabbed all the food he could get, focusing on the foods with the most nutrients. Protein bars and meal replacement shakes filled the bottom of the bag, along with a bottle of multivitamins, just in case they had to eat processed snacks from the vending machine for much longer. Basically, he tried to choose things that he couldn’t get in the office building, because it was only a matter or time before he was absolutely sick of their spread.

  Then, he grabbed first aid essentials, along with extra ice packs. He searched through fallen displays before finding an ankle brace and air cast in Genevieve’s size. In case that didn’t work out for her, he grabbed a couple of rolls of elastic bandages to replace the scarf.

  Next, he searched through the over-the-counter drugs, deciding on the most essential of the lot. Anti-inflammatories and sleep aids went in the backpack, rattling around as he walked. He felt weird stealing things from the store, but he didn’t really have a choice.

  As he made his way toward the pharmacy counter, he accidentally stomped on a box, sending its contents all over the aisle. Stepping on the feminine products reminded him that his group had needs that were different from his own and that he should be sensitive to that. It made him feel a little uncomfortable to pick up such items for near-strangers, but he assumed they would need them eventually. Without a clue as to what the wide variety of products were for, he grabbed a couple of the boxes he had seen in his own bathroom cupboard at home and jammed them into the bag.